Bedroom Etiquette, Chapter 3,428

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Until yesterday I was casually seeing this guy, who I liked but wasn’t in love with by any stretch. I thought we might have a few more weeks of sex left, but I ended it early because of something that happened when we were in bed together. Mind you, I WAS NOT WEARING ANY CLOTHES, NOT EVEN UNDERPANTS, WHEN HE TOLD ME THIS.

A couple weeks ago he mentioned a lesbian co-worker who wanted him to be a sperm donor for her and her girlfriend. I forgot about it until last night when he informs me, RIGHT AFTER WE’D HAD SEX, that he was going to the girl’s house the next night to have a threesome with her and her girlfriend.

First of all, I knew we were both seeing other people, but mentioning other sex partners WHEN I’M NAKED is wrong. Also, these women are not casual dabblers in lesbianism; he said he really had to argue with them to go for the threesome idea. What kind of person manipulates lesbians into a threesome by holding his sperm hostage?

Gross. He totes didn’t know how nasty he was, either. Just laid there, all inflated by his giant ego, proud that he was going to have a threesome the next night. I don’t even know why they want his sperm, because he’s short, pudgy, and hairy, yet bald. (I have a thing for that type.) I wish he had told me before we’d had sex WHEN I WAS STILL WEARING CLOTHES so I could’ve kicked him out! Am I wrong? When I told him how squicked out I was, he told me I was being an asshole and implied I was uptight. I just think he’s morally repugnant. Am I wrong?

—Ewww!

Those are a couple of desperate ladies if they’d rather sex up an ugly guy than just go to the sperm bank and plop down a credit card. Don’t they have any foxy gay friends who’d be willing to spill a little seed on their behalf? Or a sane straight guy who isn’t so desperate to fill his spank bank that he’d just let them have a vial? If the number of soiled socks, sticky T-shirts, and Kleenex clumps I’ve encountered over my years of dealing with men are any indicator, I’d guess that most men have a surplus of baby batter that mainly just goes to waste. Surely they could find someone to share it with without such conditions. Not to mention that most people don’t get preggo on the first try, so I hope they know that this is merely the first in a series.

I mean, imagine if you were somehow able to manipulate, like, Neil Patrick Harris and his foxy husband into sleeping with you in exchange for some loose eggs. As adorable as those two are, I’m sure it would never occur to you—or any sane person—to ask in the first place. Yuck.

You were right to lose this guy, because, yes, he’s a manipulative jerk, and yes, again—unless it’s part of your kink—you don’t bring up other people you’re schtupping with someone who’s still in an underpants-free zone.

dategirl@seattleweekly.com

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